Trials of Togetherness
by DeliciousKrabKakes
Summary: Follow Amelia and Ivan through the struggles of any standard relationship. Family, friends, jealousy, misunderstandings, and of course there's also the fact that they are all personifications of the world as we know it! Warnings inside. May or may not continue. R&R?
1. Are You Well?

**Mandatory stuffs that I hope you read~**

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**WARNING! IN FUTURE CHAPTERS THERE ****MAY****OR****MAY****NOT****BE**** SOME HEAVY ANGST!**

**Established**** Fem!AmeRus / RusFem!Ame / Fem!America x Russia... You get the point...**

**Pretend for the sake of this story that America has always been female.**

**Characters, while I will try to make accommodations for their original personalities, will most likely be slightly OOC (out of character).**

**I MAY or MAY NOT use OC's (original characters) in this fiction. If I do and do not explain the purpose or back-story behind a particular character (and / or if the introduction of the character hindrances your ability to understand the major plot line or theme) ****_PLEASE LET ME KNOW_****! (via review or PM [private message])**

_**I DO accept constructive criticism! Any comments or concerns that you have with my style of writing (be it the writing itself, or grammar / punctuation errors), do not hesitate to tell me. I will never learn to get better if I am not corrected for my mistakes. HOWEVER, this will NOT be beta'd**_** (if you want my reasoning, send me a PM and we could talk all night about it...) ****_so if you will grant me a slight bit of leeway let it be known that it is appreciated._**

_**While I appreciate constructive criticism, flames are another matter entirely. I am fine with you letting me know your opinions BUT if you make any attempt to harass or belittle me**_** (or others I may or may not mention)****_, you are under the risk of being reported. I show no hesitation nor mercy to those who purposefully knock others down for whatever reason._**

_**I **__**will not**__** beg for reviews, but they are **__**always**__** encouraged and very much appreciated. To be **_**completely ****_honest, the reviews that I receive from my readers actually help my writing._**

_**I ACCEPT SUGGESTIONS! If you have a suggestion for me, know that I will look at it and consider it. I LOVE HEARING FROM YOU. (I do have some prerequisites for suggestions though: they MUST be sent through PM [or I will not respond to them], the suggestion is just that-a SUGGESTION-I may or may not actually use it, and [finally] I must ask you to give me some ideas on how to exactly put forth your suggestion in my story.)**_

**I'm not going to apologize for any lack of updates. The stories I upload on here are just for fun.**

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**DISCLAIMERS:**

**I, DeliciousKrabKakes of , do not own or have any affiliation with the creators of ****Hetalia: Axis Powers****. All rights respectfully go to****Himaruya Hidekaz****and Funimation Entertainment. I do not gain any sort of profit from the writing of this fiction, I simply write for fun.**

**Without any further delays on my part,**

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_**Trials of Togetherness**_

_Chapter One: Are You Well?_

Russia had always been a particularly heavy sleeper, but it never served as much of an issue because his wife was just as bad. She could sleep through an atomic war if she wanted to, so it wasn't a big deal that Ivan snored loudly. However, it was also known that when he had been holding someone when he fell asleep and aforementioned person was not next to him, it would immediately rouse him. Which is what happened on this not very extraordinary Thursday morning. He cracked an eye open and found that the bed was devoid of his partner, which was an oddity. It was extremely difficult to get Amelia out of bed in the morning and, if given the choice, would lay with Ivan for the day. Now, Russia never complained about this, so he found it puzzling when the bed, though still warm from her previous presence, was lacking a lovely blonde-especially at _this _ungodly hour.

That's when he heard terrible retching noises coming from the master bathroom that was attached to the bedroom. Now fully awake, the Russian rushed into the bathroom and found Amelia on all fours and in the process of emptying her stomach of what little it contained from the night before. Immediately at her side, the Russian held her unruly bed-head away from her face with one hand, using the other to rub her back gently. If America could give any indication of her gratefulness, she most likely would but as it were, she was a bit preoccupied with vomiting. It was a few minutes before she was simply dry heaving over the toilet. Now with a sore stomach, a pained esophagus, and the bitter taste of regurgitated bile in her mouth, Amelia stood unsteadily (with Russia's help, of course) and held onto the sink. She blinked blearily at her haggard reflection before deciding that she needed to brush her teeth. Ivan was reluctant to leave her alone for even a second, fearing that she would get sick again, but settled for warily watching her figure from the door frame. After a few minutes of vigorous brushing and rinsing, America stepped away from the sink and looked at her husband. Ivan took in her exhausted expression and the darkness under her eyes, which stood out more because she seemed to look a bit paler than normal.

"Ivan?" Amelia croaked, voice obviously not having recovered quite yet. Since they had been together for quite some time now, Ivan could read her like an open book. Getting the unspoken message, Russia took her in his arms and carried her (bridal-style) into their room. Having no energy, Amelia said nothing to this and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face into his chest. Ivan laid her down and cuddled next to her, relishing in the warmth that she gave off.

He pressed his lips to her forehead, under the guise of a gentle comfort when he was really feeling for a fever. The Russian frowned when he realized that she felt very warm. This was very unusual, especially considering that they were in their home in_ his _country. He didn't want to upset America by untangling himself from her and leaving her alone in their large bed (and even larger home) but he also wanted to get her something that could bring her fever down, and possibly something to soothe nausea. Torn between the two, Ivan finally decided that it would be best to only have Amelia suffer temporary disappointment, rather than being miserable and mopey (due to illness) for days.

As gently and subtly as he could, Ivan pulled America's arms from around his neck and pushed her slightly away from him. Her reaction was immediate. Amelia sat up in bed like a rocket getting ready for takeoff. She noted that Ivan was slipping his boots on and wrapping his scarf around his neck (he only ever took it off when he was positively confident that he and America were alone and going to be so for an extended period of time). Amelia didn't really want to be alone right now, she still felt a little ill and was a bit reluctant to see her husband leave her side.

"Where are you going?" Her voice still sounded like crap, much to her dismay. Though she knew that Russia could see through every farce she put up, America loathed looking weak-especially in front of people. Ivan sighed heavily, tugging an overcoat over his large frame.

"Just to store. I vill be stopping to get you medicine. Anything else you vant vile I am out?" Amelia's face contorted at the mention of medicine. She remembered all the times in her colony days when she was ill; England would make her swallow a few tablespoons of the awful substance that he referred to as 'medicine'. France managed to sneak her sweets whenever she complied, though, which was always a bonus. America, as Ivan had discovered, could be as stubborn as she was loud when she wanted to be. So he was not really surprised when she slipped off the bed and began gathering her winter things to go outside with him.

"Nyet, Amerika. Rest, I vill be back soon." Ignoring him, Amelia slipped her petite feet into a pair of fuzzy white snow-boots. Ivan shook his head and walked to her side of the bed, where he grabbed her hands, firmly but gently.

"Amelia." When Ivan gained this tone of voice, Amelia knew that there would be no winning an argument. Looking up at his lavender eyes, full of warmth and concern, she slumped.

"I'm _fine_, Ivan." Amelia insisted, though her body was certainly not agreeing to this false statement. Ivan sighed, he didn't want to do this but Amelia left him with no other option.

"Vould you prefer it I stay," Amelia brightened, smiling at the thought that she had won, "and gall Art'ur?" And Francis and Matthew, but he didn't need to say those names-because she knew that when he brought up her family (the all-but-infamous FACE family), Ivan meant business. America wasn't leaving the house tonight. She let out a harsh breath, blowing gold-colored hair out of her line of vision.

"..._fiiine_..." Amelia relented, kicking off the boots and shrugging her coat off of her shoulders. Russia smiled in victory, causing America to stick out her tongue at him.

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Ivan glanced over the many different medications for the common stomach flu. His eyes were falling on ones that would help with a fever, but also didn't taste all that horrid. He knew how much Amelia hated medicine on any given day, let alone the kinds of medicines that left her with a bitter taste in her mouth. He could remember her saying to him on one occasion that she 'would rather have tasted the vomit a thousand times over' than to swallow another spoonful. Biting his lip, Ivan settled on a generic brand of cherry-flavored syrup that would help with nausea, vomiting, fevers, and other symptoms that were associated with stomach bugs. He browsed through the pharmacy a while longer, in case he saw something that Amelia may need or want while ill. He knew how she hated being alone when she wasn't feeling one hundred percent.

In the end, Ivan ended up purchasing the cough syrup and some hot/cold packs for her fever. On his way home, he stopped and also got her some unidentifiable sweet drink whose name he couldn't pronounce for the life of him. He knew that Amelia preferred something sweet to eat or drink after taking medicines, having this tradition since the days when she was England's colony.

Though the trip couldn't have lasted more than a half an hour, it still was an agonizing amount of time to be apart, especially when one of them was ill. Though it hardly ever happened, when Ivan got sick, Amelia would rarely _ever _let him leave bed. She would cater to his every whim and desire, pampering him though it was not wanted most of the time. Whenever Russia mentioned to her that she could take a break, she would roll her eyes and hush him. Likewise, when Amelia was sick, Ivan did the same-though perhaps he was worse because of how protective he is over her.

Ivan rushed into the door and set the keys down on the rack, taking off his coat and boots, leaving them in their respective places in the front hallway. With his little bag of pharmaceuticals in one hand, and the cup of liquid sugar in the other, Ivan made his way up to their bedroom. He was extremely displeased when he heard the sound of the toilet flushing and heavy pants, as though someone had just finished running a marathon. Ivan didn't need to ask to know that Amelia had been vomiting again.

Setting the bags on the bedside table, he gently knocked on the door.

"Amerika? Everything is okay, da?" Amelia cleared her throat and Russia could see her straightening out her back and sticking her chin in the air. He knew how much she hated to be seen as 'weak'. Even though everyone viewed America as one of the strongest superpowers in the world, she was still quite insecure. This was most likely due to the fact that all of the nations that have held positions as superpowers have been male, Amelia being the first (and probably only) exception.

"I'm fine." Her voice was strained and the amount of force put behind it was obviously a farce. Ivan pushed open the door, finding that his wife was already smothering her toothbrush with more minty paste for her teeth.

After another round of teeth-brushing, Ivan led the ill nation to their bed, beside which was where the medicines and the sugary concoction were waiting. Though she could read that the medicine was flavored and probably wouldn't taste all that disgusting, Amelia still wrinkled her nose at the thought of the syrupy substance going down her throat. Grinning, Ivan decided that Amelia was well enough to tease.

"Ah, so you can get into wars with nations about the vorld and can even bear the burden of Mother Russia, but vhen it comes to taking medicine, Amerika is not strong enough?" Glaring, Amelia (probably just to spite Ivan...) took the bottle of medicine and took a hearty swig before capping it and setting it back down. Eye twitching and nose wrinkling again, America grabbed the drink (that Russia was glad for thinking to get) and down nearly half of it in an attempt to get the taste out of her mouth.

While it was a good deal better than the taste of bile, the consistency still irked her. Canada would probably have no problem downing a whole bottle of that stuff as it was about the same viscosity of maple syrup.

Sighing, Amelia set down the drink and tried to let her stomach settle before laying back down. Ivan, happy to relax now, discarded the remainder of his outdoor clothing before joining his wife in bed. He wrapped his arms around the small blonde, who eagerly buried her face into his warmth. Russia grinned.

"Such trouble you give me..." He could feel Amelia smiling against his neck and, unable to fight the contagiousness of her happiness, he began to smile as well.

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**That's all she wrote for now! I don't know exactly if or when I'll post another chapter. Maybe if I get enough positive feedback I'll consider writing up more. This COULD be a series of one-shots, but I could also probably make it into something with a plot. Who knows?**

**Until then, my friends,**

**Insanely and undoubtedly yours,**

**~DKK**


	2. Business and Visits

**DISCLAIMERS:**

**I, DeliciousKrabKakes of , do not own or have any affiliation with the creators of ****Hetalia: Axis Powers****. All rights respectfully go to****Himaruya Hidekaz**** and Funimation Entertainment. I do not gain any sort of profit from the writing of this fiction, I simply write for fun.**

**Another note for those in the U.S. - Most Europeans use temperature that is measured in degrees Celsius. (38.7°C is about 102°F)**

**Without any further delays on my part,**

_**Trials of Togetherness**_

_Chapter Two: Business and Visits_

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Groaning and holding her nauseous stomach, Amelia knelt again before the porcelain object that she has been quite familiar with for the past few days. Ivan knew that she hadn't felt well for a while, but was still called away to the capital on duties to his country. Upon Amelia's insistence, the man left with a promise to return as soon as he could.

Though she would never tell Russia this to his face, Amelia was happy that he had been called away. For one, she didn't want _him _to get sick from this bug-she was unlucky to be dealing with it herself. For another, though Ivan always had good intentions, he could be a bit... Overprotective at times.

Perhaps now was one of the prime examples of this.

After Amelia had completely drained her stomach of everything that could possibly come up, the doorbell rang. After quickly (but thoroughly) rinsing her mouth with some mint-flavored mouthwash, Amelia hurried to the door. On her way down, she tried to make herself look at least semi-presentable. Not an easy feat when your appearance matches how you feel, which is like complete and utter crap.

Opening the door, she was greeted with a thermometer being shoved between her lips and being rushed inside by none other than Arthur Kirkland.

"What in the bloody Hell was he thinking? Leaving you alone! And in _this _blasted country! It's no wonder your ill, why it's bloody freezing out there!" After being forced to sit on the couch, the thermometer beeped and was instantly ripped from her mouth.

"My god, you're 38.7 degrees. Burning up like a match with sandpaper! Alright now, up to bed we go!" It was then that Amelia noticed that France and Canada were there as well. Francis smirked at Arthur's fussing.

"Mon cher, Amerique is still very alive. Zere is no need for panic..." England whipped his head around so fast that Amelia was surprised that it didn't snap off of his neck. After glaring at Francis wordlessly, Arthur sighed and offered a hand to help Amelia up off of the couch. Rather than taking the hand, she pushed herself off of the couch and smiled.

"Why are you all here?" The three men looked at her as though she had suddenly sprouted a second head. At her confused expression, Matthew spoke up.

"Amelia, you're sick. Why wouldn't we be here?"

"Well, how did you know that I was sick?" Looking at one another, France seemed to be the only one who wanted to speak.

"Russia, mon petit amour!" Frowning, Amelia wrinkled her brow and pouted. God, that man was so vigilant! He _knew _how her family got!

"But what if you guys get sick? I don't want you to get sick because of me! That's totally unheroic!" Arthur ignored her and took her arm gently. With a concerned parental look, he lead her up the stairs.

"Do you ever listen to me? Didn't I clearly say that you needed to lie down? Come on, love, up to bed now!" It seemed that Amelia just wasn't going to win this battle. Not that she had the energy to fight it much more anyways. The nausea made it very difficult to stay asleep when she laid down. For the past three days or so, Amelia had gotten of four or five hours of sleep-total. Arthur frowned when he took in her form.

"My God, you look dreadful. When was the last time you ate something?" Amelia frowned.

"Hm... Well, I have been eating but it doesn't really seem to want to stay down... I guess... A few days?" The Brit's face held an expression of shock and disapproval. Normally it was difficult to see Amelia when she _wasn't _eating something. (Though oddly enough, it was never really displayed in her weight...) Now she hasn't held anything down in a few days? Time to fix that.

Amelia was letting Arthur lead her to the top of the stairs when he suddenly stopped and began leading her back down them again.

"Um... Is this some thing that you are trying to do to get me to be more active? Honestly, I have to say that you need to get better timing with these kinds of things." Rolling his eyes, Arthur explained that she needed to eat something before napping.

"Going periods of time without food is not healthy, Amelia. Especially when you're ill. That makes things worse, you know." Once again, Amelia was plopped on the couch and told to relax. Mattie sat next to her, Kuma in his lap, trying not to look too concerned and failing at aforementioned attempt. Amelia smiled and tried to reassure him.

"I'm fine, bro! Really I am! But you might want to stay away, I'll feel bad if I get _you _sick!" Matthew opened his mouth to speak but was cut off with commotion coming from the kitchen.

"And just what do you sink you are doing, Angleterre?"

"Frog-faced idiot, what does it look like?! I'm making something to eat!"

"Ah, so you _want _Amerique to be z'rowing up?"

"Shut the bloody hell up! My cooking is at least a thousand times better than anything you could ever make!"

Amelia giggled behind her palm while Matthew shook his head.

"You'd think that after a few centuries it'd get old, eh?" Amelia's chuckles got slightly louder. As the bubbly blonde's laughter was often contagious, it wasn't long before the North American twins were laughing uproariously. Hearing the loud happiness from the kitchen, Francis began to chuckle as well. Not too long afterward, Arthur followed suit while shaking his head. Amelia stopped suddenly and her face drained of all color in a second. Matthew stopped laughing and got extremely concerned.

"A-Amelia? Are you o-?" Before he could finish his thought, the woman sprinted into a nearby bathroom (God was she ever thankful that they had one downstairs...) and dropped to her knees while heaving over the toilet. Tears streamed down her face as she vomited violently into the toilet.

Arthur was by her side in less than a minute, holding her hair away from her face, with Francis on the other side, rubbing Amelia's back comfortingly. Matthew stood in the doorway, near tears.

The entire family acted the same way, though Amelia hated being coddled. It was rather hilarious, actually. Whenever Matthew was sick, Amelia just seemed to _know_. Most of the time, it was even before Matthew knew himself! Usually, it was Arthur that was ill. He was the most susceptible to illness, of the four of them-it seemed. The least susceptible, though, was Amelia. When he (Arthur) was sick, Amelia would refuse to leave his side for even a minute. Though Arthur would often tell her to go away, she would only stubbornly reply with a curt "no" and proceed to snuggle in closer to him. Though Arthur hated the idea that Amelia could catch the cold or flu that he had, he was also secretly glad for her stubbornness. He missed the days when Amelia was younger when she would crawl into bed with him during a storm or after a nightmare.

When America was finished, now breathing heavily with her eyes closed, England and France helped her to her feet. Arthur creased his thick brows in worry.

"Alright, love. No arguments. You're going upstairs into bed. We'll bring you up something to eat soon-"

"And _I _vill be cooking, ma cherie. No worries~!" Francis supplied. This time Arthur just shot him a glare and said nothing. When they got up the stairs, Amelia headed for the bathroom, rather than her bedroom.

"Are you feeling ill again, poppet? Should we call a doctor?" Amelia tried to smile as best as she could, but it was forced and pained.

"Nah, I'm just going to brush my teeth and rinse my mouth. Get this awful taste off my tongue." Arthur nodded. When either men let go of her arms, Amelia cleared her throat.

"Ah, right..." The two let go, leaving her to go into the restroom.

"I vill be starting ze oven, amour. Anysing you vant in particular?" Amelia shook her head. If she was completely honest with them, she didn't want to eat anything at all. Her stomach was still churning from her last bout of vomiting. The very thought of forcing something down her throat again... Ugh. Amelia felt like she was going to be sick again. Arthur nodded as Francis went downstairs again.

"I'll fix your bed up, love. If you feel ill again, just yell." Amelia nearly rolled her eyes. Her parents were so concerned over nothing. It was a bug. She would get over it.

Stepping in the bathroom and closing the door behind her, she noticed that she was all out of toothpaste. It was a good thing she kept a spare tube in the medicine cabinet. Tossing the empty toothpaste container in the trash, Amelia opened the cabinet and rifled through it. Upon finding her minty savior, America almost closed the little cupboard. The thing that stopped her arm from closing the door was a colorful little box that sat innocently on a shelf near where she found the toothpaste. Amelia frowned. She glanced at the door.

"Hey, dad? What's the date?" Arthur paused in his task before remembering the numerical date.

"It's February seventeenth, love. Why?"

"Just wondering, I forgot." Silently, though, Amelia ticked off days in her head. No... That... Hm... Amelia shook her head and started over again. Every time though, she came up with the same answer.

Her period was late.

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**And thus the plot thickens. XD**

**Yeah, you guys convinced me. I'm gonna make a story outta this little thing. I just dunno where I'm going with it, so don't expect too much from me.**

**~DKK**


	3. Testing 1 2 3

**DISCLAIMERS:**

**I, DeliciousKrabKakes of Fanfiction (dot net), do not own or have any affiliation with the creators of Hetalia: Axis Powers. All rights respectfully go to Himaruya Hidekaz and Funimation Entertainment. I do not gain any sort of profit from the writing of this fiction, I simply write for fun.**

**Later on, there will be a discussion between Amelia and an OC (unimportant, really) that is Russian. Rather than getting out the online translator (in my opinion that is useless and lazy...), I am simply going to put my native language in boldfaced and italicized print. Amelia's "Russian" will be bold-print, and the OC will have italics when speaking. When Amelia is speaking, I won't be using good grammar because I think that for Nations it would be harder to learn and/or adapt other languages or cultures from foreign nations. The only reason I think Amelia can do this so quickly is because America is often described as "the cultural melting pot" and it is why that she is so adaptable. If you want more on my crazy Hetalia theories, feel free to message me at any time.**

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_**Trials of Togetherness**_

_Chapter Three: Testing 1 2 3..._

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This wasn't possible! Her period was _never _late! She could nearly pinpoint it to the hour! She'd been so sick lately that she had forgotten all about it! Amelia paced around the bathroom, biting her lip and continuously glancing at the little box of tampons that were so innocently perched on the shelf in the medicine cabinet. Okay, Amelia, calm down... You're overreacting... Nations can't get pregnant. They can't have babies. It has never happened before, why would it happen now?

But why did you miss your period? Why are you getting sick all of the sudden and be fine in a moment? The little voice in her head tried to implant reasoning in her mind. Taking a deep breath in through her nose, Amelia quickly ran her toothbrush across her teeth and rinsed her mouth out with some minty mouthwash. Wiping her mouth off, she placed everything away and walked out of the bathroom, back straight and trying not to look too conspicuous.

"Dad?" She called out gently. Arthur finished placing an extra blanket on the mattress and looked up. Amelia smiled and tried not to let the internal panic attack that she was having display in her voice.

"I need to run to the pharmacy and grab a few things..." Arthur nearly snorted in half-amusement.

"You really think I'm going to let you go outside when you're sick, in _this _bloody weather?"

"I really need to go to the pharmacy, dad..."

"Well, I can have your brother pick them up for you, then." Arthur started moving downstairs, and Amelia followed.

"But, I _really _don't want Mattie to have to go..."

"Amelia, why are you being so persistent? I'm _sure _that Matthew wouldn't mind, if you need something so much." Matthew, upon hearing his name, looked up from his spot on the couch. Kuma glanced around.

"W-What won't I mind?" His voice, ever the soft one, inquired. At this point, Francis entered.

"Ah, Arzur, vhat is Amerique doing out of bed?" Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Amelia seems to be under the impression that she is going outside to a pharmacy because she absolutely _needs _something there." Amelia tried to think of something to say. She wasn't just going to go right out and say, 'oh, yeah. About that, see I think I might be pregnant because Ivan and I don't bother to use protection against that sort of thing.'... That would be a suicide mission. Hm, what to say though?

Suddenly, Amelia was hit with an idea. Use the female product card! It always worked!

"Well, I _do _need it... Y'Know... For... Female health and sanitation?" Immediately, Arthur and Francis looked away with a fiery blush. Matthew just looked confused, having never been educated by his parents on this sort of thing.

"Huh? What?" Amelia pretended to look humiliated, shuffling about and looking down. Internally, though, she was ecstatic. It was working!

"Erm, well... Right. Do you... _want _anyone to come with you or, uh..." Arthur refused to meet his daughter's gaze.

"No! No, I'm fine! I'll be back before you can say 'Superman'!" With that said, Amelia grabbed her winter coat, boots, and purse and was out the door.

"W-What is she getting? Papa, what did I miss?"

* * *

America pursed her lips and browsed the different titles. Each of the boxes boasted about how accurately they could determine whether or not you were pregnant. Some of them could even determine how far into the pregnancy you were! Amelia bit her thumbnail and bounced on the heels of her feet. God, why was this so hard?! Just as she was about to just grab one of every box, a friendly elderly woman wearing the pharmacy's uniform came up to her side.

Since she was in her husband's country, it wasn't surprising that the woman spoke in Russian with a fluent and natural tongue. Since before their wedding day, Amelia had been learning Russian from the world's best teacher-Russia himself. Though she would never be able to sound quite as natural as some, as she had been raised using English (learning the more common languages that were found in her country like French and Spanish), Amelia could understand whenever something was spoken in Russian and could give a basic reply.

"_Do you need any help, dear?_" By her name-tag, Amelia was able to see that the woman's name was Valeria, a very popular name in Russia. Sucking on her tongue slightly, Amelia decided that she DID need some help on this... particular topic.

"**Well,**" Amelia began, trying to sound slightly more natural in her husband's native tongue. "**Thinks I maybe be have... You know...**" America gestured to all the boxes of little pregnancy tests around, hoping Valeria would take the hint. Valeria was having slight issues in translating-but she knew from experience that Russian was a difficult language to learn for those who are used to speaking, reading, writing, and listening to their own native tongue. After a few moments, she could pick out the jist of what Amelia was saying and discovery lit up her face.

"_Oh! So you think that you might be pregnant but you are not sure which kind of test to take? Well, I can try my best to help you there, dear._" Valeria stood beside her and looked over the kinds. "_Well, if you want accuracy without all the fanciness, then I suggest this._" Valeria handed Amelia a little box containing what Amelia believed to be all the power in the world. "_Now, I haven't browsed for this kind of thing before, but I know that a lot of young women your age have left here with this package. If you want to try something else, the next most popular that we have is-_"

"**No, I think this good. I be try this today. A thousand thank you!**" Amelia took the box into the checkout, and also got a package of some watermelon gum. When she walked out of the pharmacy, she noticed that it had started to snow heavily. After nearly falling on her arse several times on the way to her vehicle, Amelia stepped into the little purple Toyota that Japan had given her as a birthday present. Kiku always had a habit of making sure that Amelia had things from his country. A true showing of this was evident in the amount of manga novels she received in the mail-often with a note taped onto it saying: MUST READ!

Grinning at the thought, Amelia cranked the heater up and warmed herself a bit before pulling out of the parking lot. Glancing at the time, she had actually only taken a few minutes in the store-being gone from the house for about ten minutes total. Nodding, Amelia made her way through the roads. Several times, she had to stop for a second to squint at the road signs because the Russian snow decided to have friends today. These friends- named sleet, ice and rain-were just a few of the reasons why Amelia liked to spend as much time as possible in their home in _her _country. It wasn't a coincidence that the house was located in southern California. Amelia didn't _hate _snow. No, not at all! It was just that the snow and cold were so plentiful in Russia that it made her realize how lucky she was to have such diversity among her lands! Sighing, Amelia stopped the car at a red light. Glancing over at the plastic bag, she bit her lip. What would happen if it came out positive? Would Ivan-? No. She wouldn't think about that. When the light turned green, Amelia gently pushed the gas pedal, making the car only slide on the icy road just slightly. Mind focused on the little plastic bag, Amelia didn't notice the large green truck that was sliding about the road. The truck was going much too fast and was nearing a complete loss of control. But the driver didn't seem to care, as he was upset over a recent argument with his wife of twelve years. Taking a swig out of a bottle of vodka, the miserable man notice how close he was to a little purple car. Amelia blinked as she was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of a vehicle trying to stop on the ice. Gasping, she realized how close her little car was to the green monster. Jerking the wheel away from the truck, Amelia slammed on the brakes. Unfortunately, this wasn't the best course of action on her part. Sliding dangerously towards the side of the road, the car swerved and spun out of control. As if that wasn't bad enough, the green truck came ever closer-the driver now trying to stop, only just realizing what his emotions had been doing to his concentration to the road before him. Amelia screamed as the truck drew ever nearer, only speeding up because of the friction on the ice-covered road.

Squeezing her eyes shut and screaming all the louder, Amelia grabbed at her stomach-as if to protect something (or someone) that would be in there. The driver desperately tried to regain control of the wheel, but only managed to point the head of his vehicle to the side of hers.

With nothing to stop the inevitable collision, the man closed his eyes and prayed.

Then the world stopped turning.

* * *

**I'm a terrible human being... XD**

**Leaving you all so curious and thirsty for more... Ah, well. That's what writers do...**

**TAH!**

**~DKK**


	4. Heads Up!

**DISCLAIMERS:**

**I, DeliciousKrabKakes of Fanfiction (dot net), do not own or have any affiliation with the creators of Hetalia: Axis Powers. All rights respectfully go to Himaruya Hidekaz and Funimation Entertainment. I do not gain any sort of profit from the writing of this fiction, I simply write for fun.**

**Today, we are going to be experiencing a flashback. This will be the completely italicized print.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_**Trials of Togetherness**_

_Chapter Four: Heads Up!_

* * *

The sounds seemed distant. The tires squealing, the shattering glass, and the scream of a young woman. Amelia briefly wondered if she was the one who was screaming but, before she could ponder further, her mind slipped into a fog of nostalgic bliss.

* * *

"_Engwand?" The little girl asked softly as her caretaker brushed through the locks of sunshine on her head. The aforementioned man hummed in response, signaling her to continue._

_He could already tell that Amelia had something serious on her little mind. Normally, Amelia would address him as 'Daddy' or sometimes 'Daddy Engwand'. When she was talking business (like trying to persuade him to let her do something she wasn't supposed to do...), she would often call him by his country's name. This was a habit that she had most likely picked up from England. When he was cross or stern with her (which rarely ever happened, mostly because when it came to Amelia Arthur was as soft as heated butter), he would call her by her country's name (named after an Italian explorer who is credited with discovering her land-though Spain claims up and down that a man in his lands was the one to discover America-conveniently leaving out that this 'man' was a native Englishman...), America. Or even sometimes 'American Colonies of Great Britain'. Most of the time though, he would call her 'Amelia' or even 'sunshine'-only when he was sure that France wasn't around._

_Amelia fidgeted slightly with tufts of her pink nightgown in her tiny fists. At not quite three years of age, the little girl was often curious about things but could never seem to find the proper words in English to express her questions. Truth be told, she still preferred the language that her mama-Native America-had taught her and Matthew from birth. Having not heard a word from the toddler, England continued to comb through the curls of hair. It was nearing her bottom now, making her look like a toddler 'Rapunzel' but England just couldn't find it in him to cut any of the pretty ringlets. Every strand was just so beautiful, curling towards the base and waving slightly from the roots until then. Colored like the summer sun in her lands-which is one of the reasons for his nickname for her, which Amelia loved more than anything else, 'Sunshine'._

_Still not having received an answer-or question, rather-Arthur gently probed the girl to speak up, never stopping the brush._

"_Yes, America?" The girl played with the lace on the end of her sleeves of her nightwear._

"_... Why aw widdew boys beddaw den widdew giws?" The brush stopped in its movements and England frowned. Her turned the little girl to face him._

"_What? Amelia, why would you suggest such a thing? What brought this about? Who told you this?" Arthur was plotting some serious pain to whoever told his little girl that she was inferior to men. It was not true at all! Amelia looked at her parental guiding figure with innocence. England realized how absolutely precious and new to the world that this little child-America-was, right when he saw her in the meadow not too long ago. Her face was a delicate heart shape, with infantile features only just beginning to recede. While her skin was fair, it was slightly kissed by the sunlight and a rosy blush always seemed to lightly dust her cheeks. Long pretty eyelashes framed the most endearing quality of her baby face, her large and doe-like sky blue eyes. In Arthur's eyes, little America was the most beautifully pure and perfect being in the world. She was his baby girl._

_Amelia tilted her head and explained in that adorable lisp of hers. (Though it was a bit difficult for England to see the butchering of his native language, he realized that she was only just beginning to learn to scrape the top of basic sentence construction, while maintaining some idea on the definitions of things. Not to mention the fact that the way she spoke was so endearing-she was already beginning to pick up a slight accent like his own!)_

"_Weww... Da boys get tah pway outside in da diwt but gots ta stay inside wif my dwesses n' to hewp wif wunch... Pwus, dey teww me dat when I gwows up, I wiww be nuffin' but... pwa... pwoh... pwapa..." The little girl struggled with the correct pronunciation of the word that she heard the older boys say in relation to her. Arthur hoped that it wasn't the word that he had in mind, but he offered it anyway._

"_P-Property?" Recognition lit up Amelia's face._

"_Yeah! Dat wowd! Poppatee! I dunno what dat means doh... Daddy, what's a poppatee?" England's heart shattered. Someone had told Amelia-HIS Amelia-that she was nothing more than property? Biting his lip and trying not to look too upset (or murderous, for that matter...), Arthur pulled the little toddler into a tight embrace._

"_Amelia, I am so sorry that you had to hear that. I-I... That is a lie, love. You are not mere property, you are special. You are brave and beautiful. Don't let anyone try and tell you otherwise, you hear? Only listen to what I'm telling you now, you do not follow the bonds set by the male gender—you are as free as a summer bird. Are you okay, love?" Though England knew in the back of his mind the roles that women played in society, he also hated the thought that the societal ways of the world would be forced upon such a young child. He would delude her as long as he saw fit, making her believe that women could do things that were typically reserved for males—within reason, of course. America took her head away from England's neck and looked up at him with a grin._

"_When I'm a nation, I wiww wet giws be just wike boys! Dey wiww pway in da diwt aww day wong! I wiww be Amewica—Wand of da fwee!" Amelia smiled happily at the thought. Arthur shook his head with a smile but let the belief continue._

"_Yes, quite. Now, speaking of playing all day long... I'd say that it is about time that we get you into bed, young lady..." America frowned._

"_But **Daddy**!"_

* * *

Arthur paced about the house, checking his watch over and over again for confirmation of the time. Amelia had left for the store nearly thirty-five minutes ago. Picking up something from the nearest pharmacy and the trips to and from should altogether have taken perhaps fifteen minutes. Since her departure, the light snow had picked up to a full-blown blizzard. Amelia was ill! She shouldn't be exposed to the raw Russian elements! Arthur huffed and stomped over to the phone attached to the wall, fully intent on calling his daughter and lecturing her on punctuality and the rudeness of keeping one waiting. Francis stopped him by placing a hand on the phone, stopping Arthur from removing it from the cradle.

"Per'aps she is taking it zlow? Ze snow ees very 'ard to see through..." Arthur creased his face into one of anger.

"Even if she had taken it 'slow', Amelia should have bloody been back by now! Twenty or twenty-five minutes is long enough!" The men were stopped by the sound of a doorknob shaking in place, as though someone were trying to force the key into the lock through ice that may have built up from the conditions outside. There was a collective sigh of relief as worries about Amelia's safety were dispelled with a simple sound. Arthur was about to greet her with a stern lecture but was stopped in his tracks when he realized that the large-framed man in the door was definitely _not _Amelia.

Ivan shut the door quickly as he walked inside. He was very used to the snow, sleet, and ice—but it never got any easier to deal with during the harsh winter. While kicking off his boots, he realized the company in his home—though he expected them to be here.

"Ahh... So good to be home. Ah, you got message zat Amelia has sickness? Good, good. Where is she?" Arthur was still stunned a bit, having been so relived in a moment and then having that relief go away to be replaced with an even greater sense of fear. Francis was already prepared, going to the phone and dialing the number that he knew from memory. Matthew, who was also in the room but was being ignored, fiddled with his fingers and spoke to Russia.

"W-Well, Amy went to the store and got something. I don't know what it was but Papa and Arthur seem to know... S-She hasn't really come back yet..." Ivan frowned and went stiff, walking over to where he left his boots.

Francis bit his tongue so hard that he drew blood, dialing the number for the seventh time. Again, the cellular device went to a busy signal-indicating that something was very, very wrong.

* * *

Through the dark haze of unconsciousness, Amelia could barely make sense of anything. She was very cold—she knew that much. Where she wasn't cold, she had gone completely numb. Her eyes were too heavy to lift and she couldn't muster the strength to part her lips enough to make a sound. Fading in and out of the darkness, Amelia felt herself slipping away from things. As she was getting ready to sink back into the shadows again, she heard a woman screaming in frantic Russian and a man barking some orders to another man-presumably his teenaged son. Though Amelia knew that they were panicking, she couldn't get her brain to comprehend exactly what they were saying. When Amelia opened her mouth-all intentions on speaking-she found that the only sounds that she was able to make were drowning/choking noises. Her lungs had been pierced. Again, her thoughts centered on the being that may or may not be living inside of her. A few tears slid down her face as the darkness once again consumed her mind.

**Well, I think that's good... Hopefully we'll be happier later on. XD**

**Until then, my good friends!**

**~DKK**


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